Merkel: The Magic of a Ruler

When I was a child in France in the eighties, the teacher in charge of my class showed us a film about World War II and, at the end, gave a shout of joy: “Hurray! We beat those dirty boches! ”. All the students chanted their “hooray” and raised their arms in victory. Except for me, the daughter of a French mother and a German father. I was eight years old, and after that I stopped speaking German with my father for six years. The Germanophobia then prevailing in France and many other European countries made my German origins a drag. I did not imagine that one day I would decide to develop my life in Germany.

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